


(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay

by pensandwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angelic Grace, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Destiel - Freeform, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 18:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensandwings/pseuds/pensandwings





	(Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay

         The setting sun beating down over blue set the waves alive. Cascading like fireworks, they melted into the sky and crashed into the shore beneath his feet. Crisp air lifted the leaves from their roots in an inevitable detachment that came with anything beautiful. The changing of seasons a stark reminder of where the road would end, frozen alone in retribution of his sins. The cycle would continue on without him and everything he dedicated his being too would be washed away in time. He may not have lived his life in the pinnacle image of man, but his virtue was rich in appreciation of the gifts he was given. Sitting deeper into the chair at which he sat, tired legs stretched out onto the wooden planks built far out on the water. There was a long silver fishing rod held tightly in his grip that extended into the crashing waves surrounding the dock. Blinking at his hands, his fingers curved perfectly around the wooden grooves of the handle despite having no memory of ever owning a similar rod. It felt natural however, a forgotten memory breathing into his him and calming his heart in exhalation of its words in his head. ‘ _Finally_.’

               Hairs prickling from his skin drawing his attention to the cold beer bottle nipping at his left forearm. Narrowing his gaze, the label was unfamiliar and vague, letters sloppily thrown onto plastic and wrapped around the brown glass. Lifting the bottle to his lips, the flavorless liquid fell down his throat into nothingness. Inspecting it closer, it unsettled him that he couldn’t place what exactly it was he just drank, if it was anything at all. Setting the bottle back down in discontentment, he wasn’t certain if he was being paranoid that getting everything he secretly dreamed of still wasn’t enough to satisfy the pit looming inside him or if something was truly in-congruent about the unlikelihood that anything had gone right for him. Dropping the rod from his hands, he stood onto uncertain legs and walked to the edge of the dock. Staring out onto the horizon, strained eyes tried to make out the lines of the mountain ridge lifting from the shore far out across the water. The rocks were boggy, the shape seeming to change with the waves below. “This isn’t right,” he said aloud, like anyone would hear his protest against nature. Rocking in anticipation of something that was missing, he waited for the last piece to fall into place. “Come on,” he whispered viciously into dark filling the sky, a golden line falling slowly behind him. Slighted of his solace, the promise of relief cemented in him like Deja-vu of a well-worn fantasy. He had been here many times before, on long car rides and nights spent staring at the ceiling above his bed. A private thought that he hadn’t dare share with anyone besides Cas, who had long before he had mastered’ the art of being human, stumbled into a dream he wasn’t meant to see. The realization sinking into him filled him with more dread than ease. His name completing the puzzle. He should be here. The ending lacking without his presence.

               He couldn’t afford to be selfish when it came to Sam, he had taken so many years from him already and he deserved a wife and family of his own. It would by no means be an easy process but he could come to accept visiting on weekends and holidays. They both understood that they were only a phone call away. He tried many times to think of a similar arrangement with Castiel, in a future beyond the barrel of a gun, but found himself frustrated with whatever path he took. Only in the dark corners of his mind, when he let himself get carried away did he let himself divulge in the idea of him wanting to stay. It was the one guilty pleasure he had hidden so near to himself and its disturbment left him vulnerable, reckless. “Castiel,” his voice echoing out across the water undisturbed by any response. “Where are you man?” He looked around expectantly, waiting for any indication that someone had heard him. “You’re supposed to be here,” his raised voice wavered in the sky, churning the air into black smoke with his desperation and plumed down onto him. “Come on, Cas,” a cry from tar filled lungs suffocating him, “I need you.” Dropping to his knees, his hands clung to his throat, gasping for air against the weight of the dense fog. “Please Cas, I can’t do it,” choking on hot plaster spilling from his lips and cementing him from the inside out. “I can’t do this alone.” Smoke burning his eyes, he squeezed them shut pushing the tears spilling from his cheeks.

              “Hello Dean,” a voice slipped like silk around him, opening his eyes to see the angel standing above him. Weighty blue eyes stared sadly at his despair, a warm hand reaching out to brush the side of his face. Slack jawed, he stared in disbelief at the apparition of the trench-coated figure. Slipping warm fingers under his chin, Cas poured grace into his skin. It dilated his vessels with the warm healing touch repairing his wounds. The figure of the man peering over the hunter sat in prayer at his feet pulled away, back turned to eyes blinking in disbelief at the taste of heaven. Shaking his head his words were smothered by the smoke, “Wait, where are you going? Cas?” He tried stand, his limbs buckling beneath him pinned him to the ground. His chest pounded, wide eyed the space between them grew until he was out of reach. He called out to the angel until his ribs ached. Fear burned his throat as the angel stopped to look back, “I’m sorry Dean.” Before he could protest, a long thin blade dug through his back and burst through the seams of his shirt. A beacon of blue light from his eyes illuminated the night sky only to fall, a dying star, as his body lifeless slumped to the ground. Crying out into blackness his voice was drowned out by the slipping of wood beneath him. The pillars of oak of the dock splintered into pieces, flailing limbs crashing into the freezing water. It soaked his clothing and dragged him deeper into the abyss. Pressure building in his lungs, his hands grasped wildly at nothing, searching for something to cling to until his resolve gave and everything went black.

               Snapping to sit up in his sweated soaked sheets, Dean gasped for air trying to pull himself from sleep. His heart pounded in rhythm with the waves still fresh in his mind. Rubbing his eyes and slicking back his hair, shaky legs swung over the side of the bed hesitantly onto the floor. Still uncertain of reality, he stared at the door with every intention to go straight back to bed. Left with the taste of salt from the tears staining his cheeks and unhealed scar in his chest he knew he had to be sure if he ever wanted to sleep tonight. Tossing on his housecoat, the bedroom door whined as he opened it slowly and peered down the hallway before padding bare feet down the corridor. Stopping before the main hall he leaned his against the wall and tapped his head back against the brick. He knew how ridiculous he looked, creeping around his own house at night to peer on his friend. Huffing in defeat, he gazed around the corner to find the angel sitting at the table reading an old dusty book in contemplation. He had slung the tan coat over the back of the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up sloppily. Humming, he laid his head in his hand, leaning forward to rest his arm on the table. It was rare that Dean saw Cas so disheveled. A sad smile touched his lips. He conceded to reality, fearful of tempting fate beyond the gift he was already given. Cas was alive. He couldn’t ask for more than that. “How long are you going to stand in the doorway Dean?” Cas’ voiced questioning his actions without raising his eyes from the book in his hands.

              Stepping around the corner like a child scolded by a parent, he meekly walked into the room, “Hey Cas.” Putting the book down, Cas folded his hands in his lap with a furrowed brow. “You’re up late,” watching closely as Dean slinked closer with a mystified gaze, “Everything okay?” Keeping his distance, he couldn’t match the intense stare that cut through him and pulled his memory back into the water. “Yeah,” he answered slowly, realizing that explaining the details of his experience may make things far more complicated than he was ready to tackle. “I just had this dream- it, I don’t know. Freaked me out a little.” Castiel smirked, leaning back in the chair, “The big bad Winchester scared of a nightmare?” Shaking his head, Dean held back a laugh walking to table and sliding to sit on top of the old wood across from the angel, “Shut up.” Leaning across the oak, Cas looked intently up from dark lashes, “Tell me about it.” Taking a moment, his eyes finally holding the gaze of blue pupils pulling him out to sea. Dread loomed closely in his memory, tainting the dream with guilt and confusion. He didn’t know how to begin explaining something barley understood. “It was like I was in the future and I gotten everything I dreamed of. I’m talking beer, relaxation and all the fish in the sea.” Cas blinked, squinting at his words. “This doesn’t sounds like a nightmare.” Nodding in agreement with his interjection, he looked down with sullen eyes “You’re right, but something was missing.” Blinking from a furrowed brow Castiels confusion mixed into sadness with his words, the pain in his voice harder to control seeped through in the early hours of the morning. “And everything just sort of fell apart without it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I was powerless. Then I sort of just gave up and I drowned in it.” Looking away from a sympathetic gaze, he fixed on a spot on the wall and rubbed away the burning in his eyes. “What was missing?” Cas asked in a low voice, digging the knife deeper into his chest. Compelled to watch his destruction, he studied the angels face closely. Every line, every wrinkle, battle scar and birthmark burned into memory. He’d need it once he knew. He’d need it once he left.

             “Love,” Dean answered sadly. The air between them thickened, the moment hanging in the small space between their bodies stationed at the table. Cas’ eyes darted across his face, his lips searching for the words. The blood rushing to his head, the room felt like it was closing in on him every moment longer the words had escaped his lips. The thumping in his chest was loud enough to hear in the angel’s silence. Hesitating a moment too long, his boldness fell heavy in his stomach and dragged him into detachment. “Dean, I-,” Rising from the table, Dean cut him short before he had to hear what he knew was coming. He wouldn’t stay if he knew. He couldn’t face the thoughts that cursed him, followed him, despite his futile attempts to get Cas out of his god damn head. “Anyway, I should be getting back to bed,” he pointed over his shoulder, “early day tomorrow.” He was a grown man, in this business. No one would understand. Think’ve what they’d say. The great Winchester, shackling up with the enemy. “Dean,” Cas tried again. Ignoring his attempts to speak Dean went to turn for the door and the stream of self-directed insults spewing in his head. Clenching his hands into tight fists, he swallowed hard on his words. “G’night Cas.” He stopped just outside the door at the sound of fists banged hard against the table, “Dean!” He peered sideways at Cas rising quickly from the table with a hardened stare. He rounded hall slowly, careful not to scare away the timid being. “If this is about your mother,” Cas extended out an arm in attempt to console the hunter, “we’ll find a way to find them. Like I said, whatever it takes.” Shuffling in pace, Dean fumed with frustration. “My mom? You think this is about my mom?” Cas tiled his head, misunderstanding his meaning, “Is it not?” Anger and desperation churned in his stomach making him sick. God It hurt, him not knowing. All the missed opportunities, the things unsaid. He couldn’t count the number of regrets he had collected through the years. “No, Cas. It’s about you,” he spat out, hating himself for needing to rid his body of the words. Cas’ unreadable expression lingered as he processed Dean’s words. “I don’t understand.” Rubbing his eyes he tried to relieve some of the tension building in his brow, “Of course you don’t.” The halls moaned around them while they stood in silence, a disapproving jury onlooking their opposition. His hands trembled hot headedly despite the rigid frame holding him together. The adrenaline fueling any fight he had left against the ice piercing stare.

               “Look, you were dead Cas.” The memory of damp knees pressing into the mud and wing marks seared into the soil was only a blink away, stained into his eyelids and haunting his sight until he could see nothing else. “I tried everything to bring you back,” the agony fresh in his voice, “I burned your body.” The angel had felt a lot heavier on his shoulder, wrapped properly in a white sheet, than he looked standing before him now. “I’m starting to lose track of how many times we’ve lost you and every time I think you’re really might be gone this time, you show up again.” A laughed escaped from his fearful lips, pulling back from the moment of candidness. “I feel like I have whiplash.” Frowning deeply into Dean’s sentiment he once again wished he could pluck his words from the air and stuff them back down deeply into his self. “I’m sorry if my resurrection was inconvenient for you.” Pursing his lips, he stepped forward on uncertain footing, “That’s not what I’m trying to say, you know we need you here Cas.”

               “Right,” he repeated the words back with distaste, “Need me. Can’t spare to lose a solider.”    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Irritation in his tone, twisting the conversation off track. “And when you don’t need me anymore? Do I end up like Crowley? Donatello?” Stepping forward to match the hunter’s play, he sharpened his gaze under an incredulous brow. “Don’t try and pin that on me, and you know damn well that it’s not the same thing,” he countered, pointing his finger in defence of his reeling guilt. “Why? Why isn’t it the same Dean? How am I any different than the countless other beings that have either died or faded out of contact once their “usefulness” wore off.” The air caught in his lungs, stumbling through the forthcoming of his faults. “Cas, come on man. You’re family.” A line that’s taste least like a lie as he repeated it to himself until it felt true. “I’m only your ‘brother’ through circumstances of war,” Cas’ controlled declaration reminiscent of the dutiful weapon of heaven that he was before they had fought and bled and lost together in what seemed like an impossible feat of teaching an angel to be mortal. He couldn’t remember exactly where along the way it changed, but the tone felt very unlike who Cas had become. “Don’t start with the high and mighty crap. You’re not one of Daddy’s soldiers anymore.” Hot breath, prickling his skin with the venom in his proclamation, “No, now I’m yours.”

             Blood rushed in waved across his ear drums, vibrating with indignation at the question of his intentions. “You’re not a prisoner here Cas. No one’s making you stay.” Wincing at his assertion and gesture towards the door, a second of susceptibility cracked the angels solid exterior, “Believe me, I know that.” Striking a nerve into his already critical way of self-reflection, his memory of how he had treated Cas in the past twisted deeply into a knot. Pushing him, into battle, into rebellion. Kicking the angel out when he turned human, when he needed him. He wasn’t so foolish as to think his attempts at reconciliation were enough to weave apart the fabric of lies he built their relationship on. His words planned, choosing half-truth over trying to put into words something that would only needlessly complicate his life even more. “I don’t know what you want from me here Cas.” He had built himself into a box, where by putting on his ‘no chick-flick moments’ routine, he deemed his manly inability to communicate his feelings as a valid escape from any emotional honesty; which he had comfortably done so for years. Hiding behind a tough exterior and warped concept of masculinity, he gripped tightly to the image of who he thought he was supposed to be. “I want you to be honest, with me. With yourself. I want the truth,” Cas’ words and cutting eyes setting off an inherited fight response against his incrimination, stewing with resentment at his prodding. “The truth about what exactly?” His head held high, puffed out in defense of his obvious guilt. Stubborn in his position, he would be swayed from his ignorant bliss so easily.

            “You say I’m not just another weapon. You call me your friend but you forget I can hear your prayers,” Stepping into the hunters space, the angels speculative suspicion shrunk him into submission. “I’m supposed to be your brother yet you don’t look at me the way you do Sam. I don’t understand my place in your world.” Fighting the urge to back away, he held his ground firmly despite the proximity of his surveying stare. “It’s complicated Cas, you gotta understand-humans, relationships, it’s not always clear cut.” Wanting to shake his hands of any responsibility he held in the mess they created, he wished for the times when Cas wasn’t inept at deciphering the inconsistencies in his actions. “You don’t always need to label it. Isn’t it enough just to, you know, recognize that we work better together and leave it at that.”

              “I don’t know Dean,” the angel spoke lowly, “is it enough for you?” Lashing out in attempts to be free of this imposition into his reputation, his angered words flowed from his mouth in hopes of giving the angel just enough to release him. “What do you want me to say? That you’re one of the only friends I have left? That besides Sam there isn’t anyone I would want following me into shit we get into. Even though we constantly lie and fight and dig ourselves deeper into one mess after another, you’re one of only people left that I trust.” Leaning into unrelenting scrutiny of the familiar blue eyes, the storm in them lay bare the fight that had only just begun. “After everything we’ve been through, purgatory, Amara-We’ve faced the end of the world more times than I can count. You saved me from hell, from the angels, from the mark, from myself.” Spitting into the face of the stone faced angel, a man desperate to believe his own words spun his tale of self-preservation into comradery. “ I don’t what to call it Cas, but. I need you here. I need you on my team.” Huffing onto tan skin, he thought his words loud enough and filled with just enough sincerity that he may have satisfied Cas’ questioning for now. It wasn’t like his words were untrue, they just did nothing to ease the tension that thinned the air between them. Light headed and disoriented from the circles they danced around each other.

            “Why did you keep my trench coat?” The angel countered, the question throwing him off focus. “What?” “After the leviathan’s, I came back as Emanuel. You kept my trench coat. Why?” Needing no reminder, the blood soaked thing stunk up the trunk of his car for months. He tried many times to get rid of the old coat, each time his fingers unable to let go of the fabric that tied him to the angel. After he came back, Dean didn’t see it important to waste time decrypting his attachment to Cas’ belongings. “I don’t see what that has with anything?” Panting in irritation, Cas’ voice deafening with its merciless provocation, “Why couldn’t you leave me in purgatory?” He had woken up many times before like he had tonight, between sweat filled sheets after seeing, feeling, Cas’ hand slip from his as he left him behind in that _place_. Ate away at himself with the thought that he doomed him to a life hunted and alone, only to find out that he chose to commit himself to certain demise. He stole away the faith an angel, pushing him so far that he fell into purgatory and felt at home. He didn’t deserve to unburden his misery at his passing when it was of his causing. “Cas-“ Edging the hunter further onto the ledge, Cas’ words were unrelenting, “The mixtape, the drunk voicemails you forget you leave me at 3am, you think I’m oblivious to human nature Dean, but I think the oblivious one here is you.”

             “How are you any different?” He hissed from lips moving in fervent cynicism. “You’ve turned your back on the angels to help save our lives. You’ve interfered with some cosmic-fate level shit. Based on what? The word of a hunter that you’ve known for less than one percent of the time you’ve been alive?” He didn’t blame the angel for his affliction, following his promise of righteousness. But a weaker man than the one that stood before him, he fell into fear and projected his disparities onto another. “You hide behind heaven and your duty to protect humanity but that’s not really why you do it, is it? Not anymore.” Clenching his jaw, Dean could see the truth in his words settle into shame on Cas’ face, making him sick to his stomach. “So you tell me then, if you can see everything so clearly, what exactly you think is going on,” he finished with regret stinging his throat. “There’s something missing,” Cas answered in contest with his hostility, “and without it, it’s falling apart.” His words echoed back in mockery of his earlier statement. “Screw you,” Dean turned away, pacing as the being incessantly picked apart his words.

            “Dean, from the moment I pulled you from that black pit, something changed,” Cas confessed onto unwilling ears. “I can remember how bright your soul was, it shone out like a beacon. It hurt to watch, pulling your torn being from the earth. I mended the edges of each piece of you. I’ve seen the darkest coroners of your mind. The angels had always spoken about the beauty in humanity-their courage, but I had never understood it before then.” Dean laughed the sadness in his disagreement, he was no role model. “Doubt planted in my mind,” he continued, “it powered my faith in what I now realize matters.” Dean eyes tightly shut in protest of the praise, he felt vulnerable in knowing Cas’ words were far from the truth. Cas should know that best, having seen more of his sins than Dean had dared show anyone before. “Free will, family” the angel wavering in his boldness, mustering his bravery between words, “love.” Gritting his teeth, he swallowed down the lump forming dry in his throat. It wasn’t the first time the angel had expressed similar sentiments, of human emotions. Dean just refused to recognize Cas’ budding sexuality and deepening appreciation for the mortal experience. He couldn’t, it gave him too much hope. “Cas, please,” cursed with the memory of the angel professing his affection with shaky hands soaked in blood, it served as a stark reminder of exactly why he had to stop. “But you’re right,” the angel pressed on, “I became weak, I lost my way. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was doing what I felt was just. I became selfish, wanted. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe I could be deserving of a human experience. ”

              He knew he should have provided kinder words in response to Cas’ self-deprecation, instead it just pissed him off more. The last decade of his life dedicated to sublimating major parts of himself in order to keep the peace. Years he had spent in restraint because the job, the life, demanded it. Why should he get to be loose with his heart and make this harder for the both of them? “So what? You think you’re the only one who feels weak? Selfish? Whose done stupid thing for the people they care about? Wake up Cas, you’re not the only one who had to put on their big boy pants, put the fantasies away and stuff those thoughts deep down inside.” Taking a moment and calming the velocity of his breath, the angel broadened his shoulders at the scolding. “No one feels like they deserve to be here. You don’t survive in this business without a heavy conscious. You can’t go spilling it every time things gets a little rough.” “So you’re just content to live like this?” Cas entering his space again, closing in on his weakened prey.

             “I don’t know how to be anything else,” Dean breathed into the face of the angel inching closer to his. “Can’t or won’t try,” Cas’ accusation poised with more meaning than one, heat pricked at the nape of his neck. “Don’t give me that,” unable to defend the logistics of his career, reverting to deflection seemed the best option. “Typical Winchester, the only thing they’re truly scared of is themselves,” Cas’ hands gripping the arms of his sleeve, fingers twisting in the black robe and throwing him hard against the wall. “Watch it,” Dean spat, wrestling to free his shackled wrists from the angels grasp. “Or what? We don’t bring it up again, let it fester for years and take our anger out in rash ways like we always do?” Large pupils blacked out the blue in Cas’ eyes, hidden from under furrowed brows fixated on his own wide eyed panic. “We’re done here,” Dean panted faintly from shuddering lips. “Much easier to kill the monster than deal with your own problems isn’t it. To run away instead of actually facing it like a man.” Recoiling into the bluntness of his words, his resolve crumbling under his inspection. “I’m sorry if you don’t like how we do things around here,” Dean rasped bleakly, “but I don’t know how to be who you need me to.” Tightening his grip with a squint of his eyes, Cas moved in closer. His is warmth pressed against his abdomen beating in rhythm with his heart. “ I’m not that guy,” he maintained, “ I- I can’t. I don’t deserve-. The way I’ve lived my life, the choices I’ve had to make. I accepted it a long time ago. This road doesn’t lead to a happy ending for me. So what’s the point? What’s the point when there’s no guarantee that either of us will be alive in a week?” Dean exhaled uneasily at the proximity of the tips of the angel’s face, the tip of his nose nearly brushing the bridge of his own. The angels stare flicking down to his mouth, drawing up slowly, unaffected by his fearful whimpering. Licking his lips in reflex, he felt gravely close to being unable to talk himself out of making a mistake. “I can’t Cas,” he pleaded, needing some air that wasn’t warmed by his lungs. Huffing into the cinnamon skin of the face of the man he had called his best friend for some time now, his mind swirled in disarray. He wasn’t the kind of man whose skin burned at the thought of another man’s touch. The darting stare, hazy under thick lashes, of an angel sensing longing in-congruent to his claims. “I’m not-“Dean insisted, the word not daring to touch his lips in fear of becoming real. “Not what?” Cas tempted, lessening the space and pulling himself in tighter. One touch couldn’t hurt, could it? One lapse of judgement in nine years of constraint. It didn’t mean he had ‘switch teams,’ just curious if the angel tasted as good as his hot breath felt.

              The door at the end of the hall clicked open, their bodies separating like the opposite ends of magnets. Sam’s head peeked out from behind his bedroom door, under the yellow lights filling the hallway. “Everything okay? I thought I heard yelling?” Dean gritted loudly down the hall, “Everything’s fine Sam.” Eyes locked with Cas’ heated stare, he prayed his brother didn’t walk into the tense air filling the corridor. He’d be found out in a second, half-clothed and red-faced at 3am with their so called companion. “Are you sure?” Sam’s earnest question met with rapid response. “Goodnight Sam!” “O-okay. Night.” The door closing slowly echoing down the long corridor, eyes casted away until the click of metal firmly shut its frame. Sighing and learning back against the wall, he peered down at the stone faced angel. Waking up from his trance, he started slithering back into his shell at the reappearance of reality. What was he thinking? Thinking it could work, that anyone would understand. “You’re an angel Cas. I’m just a human. And a very stupid one at that. How could I even begin to think-.” He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t admit that he had let things get this far. “Look its best for everyone if we just let it go.” Suck it up Winchester. Tensing his frame and pushing down the storm brewing between them, he had to believe it was safer this way. “Let it go,” Cas repeated, scowling at the proposition. “Yeah you know move on, let it be, try to forget any of this ever happened. Do you think you could try and do that?” He sighed, rubbing his cracked hands over his weathered face. “I’ve tried, Dean,” Cas testified with sincerity in his sound, “I’ve been trying. I just keep doing what I think you want. But nothing seems to make you happy,” the sharply angled bones of the angels’ cheeks pulled into a deep disapproval. “I can feel your distaste when I’ve forgotten to call or been away too long. Then when I’m here it’s like you have one foot out the door.” “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an answer that will satisfy you Cas, I just don’t.” His hands raised at his sides, palms pointing towards the heavens, a surrender to the impasse of his character.

             Staring off blankly into the darkness, Cas’ words echoed down the corridor, “So what now?”   “I don’t know,” Tipping his head back to rest against the wall, Dean focused on the lines of the celling. “When does it get easier?” Cas muttered lazily.   “What?”    “Being human,” Cas clarified with a huff. Dean smiled in appreciation of the shared existentialism that the angel was discovering, “Never.”

            “Cas?” His voice unintentionally woeful with trepidation. “Hmm,” hummed the angel hummed in response. “Did you want to come back?” Lowering his chin slowly to face Cas’ glazed over expression, Dean wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer he would receive. “Yes,” the reluctant angel, folding his hands into his pockets. “Truthfully I was conflicted at first. It would have been easier, to stay. It was empty, alone. There was no guarantee there was even anything for me to return to. A part of me wanted to just give up, I’d done my time. Many of my choices ended up causing more harm than good anyway. I thought I’d be doing the world a favor by staying dead.” He painted Dean red with guilt, having added to the negative way he viewed his impact on the world. How many time he had criticized Cas’ actions, his mistakes. Ones he had made himself many times before. All in fear of having to admit his faults to those whose opinions matter so greatly. Choosing self-preservation over reflection he spoke down on others so they didn’t realise they were worth more than without him around. “What changed your mind?” Dean dared to ask, in attempt to understand why he could have possibly chosen this life again. Not that he was complaining. His death row meal, he’d indulged in prayer for nothing more than to see the perplexed expression of the sensible being just once more before leaving this word behind. “I made you a promise and I intend to keep it,” Cas murmured and glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “What’s that?”    “To watch over you. Keep you safe,” Cas answered flatly. Resigning himself to fall back endlessly into the front lines for the hunter, his voice left no room for discussion regarding the matter. “Maybe you should spend a little more time worrying about self yourself and less about me and you wouldn’t get yourself killed so often. I’m not your responsibility Cas.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“Of course.”

“Dean,” Cas frowned, walking over to the table and reaching into the pocket of the trench coat slung over the oak chair. “There’s something I want you to hear.” He pulled his phone from the pocket, the light illuminating his face. “You’re trying to play me a YouTube video, right now?” “Just listen, will you?” The phone rang a few times, a voicemail message prompting him to input a number, pulling up saved messages.

“ _SAVED MESSAGE. 9:23PM_ ” a robotic female voice reading out the date, just a few days before Cas’ return. Loud shuffling on the other end of the line opened the beginning of the lengthily message. “ _Cas, it’s me, Dean. I don’t know why I’m calling again. It just feels like what I’d normally be doing right now. I’m supposed to be fiixin’ it. I’m supposed to be solving the case and protecting Sam and gettin’ mom back._ ” The liquor was dripping off his voice as he slurred through his words. “ _But I don’t know how. It’s like the sparks gone, ya-know? Nothing makes sense like it used to. I told Sammy I was out ‘doing research,” I’m pretty sure he saw through it. You know him, nice enough not to ask_.” The sound of bottles crashing behind him mixed in with the sounds of people enjoying a night out giving his location away. “ _I wish I could tell you things we’re handling there here Cas. I wish I could tell you to rest easy, but I can’t. We need you here buddy. So hurry the hell up as get your ass home. Okay? Ok_.” The phone line cut off with a beep.

“ _SAVED MESSAGE 10:48PM_ ”and the same date read aloud followed by Dean’s increasingly sloppy voice chiming in. “ _I told you not to do anything stupid. Can’t even follow a simple direction like that? No wonder you got yourself killed. You worked as a solider in God’s army and can’t even keep yourself safe. I have bigger things to think other than how to get you back and it’s making it hard to concentrate on that when I have Lucifer Jr. calling you Dad and Sam pretending to that he could even begin to fill your place. I don’t have time to fuck around anymore Cas. Call me._ ” Clearing his throat, he depend his voice into the phone, “ _Please_.” The phone beeped to the next message. His voice wallowing on the other line.

“ _SAVED MESSAGE 12:02AM_ ,” “ _I should have made you stay,” his voice cracked and fading in and out of range. “I should, I should have never let you get so involved. For our mistakes. I should have tried harder to convince you, about Jack. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know, that it’d end up like this. I’ve tried everything, I don’t know what else to do_.” It was quiet between the gaps of his words, “ _Just, tell me what to do_.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Dean didn't need to hear where this went next. “There’s only one left,” Cas said clicking through to the next message.

“ _SAVED MESSAGE, 2:56AM_ ” “Cas,” desperation wavering his voice, drowning his words, “ _I’m sorry. That I couldn’t save you. That I fucked up your life because I couldn’t just listen for once in my goddamn life. That you had to throw away your whole life because of what we’ve done. You told me you don’t regret your choices but look at the kind of path I’ve lead you down_.” Flashes of memory, loose limbs sprawled out on the floor beside his bed with a bottle in his hand and the blankets over his head. " _I was so arrogant. I thought I knew what was best. For you. For the world. But I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time. And I just let you follow me, and it got you killed. I got you killed. I’ve lied so much, about everything. And now you’re gone, again. How selfish is it of me to still be hopeful that you might come back? That you’d even want to_.” Squeezing his eyes shut he’s back in the moment, the cold phone pressed against his face and the room spinning beneath him. There’s a deep sigh, “ _Please Cas. If you’re out there, don’t give up on me yet, Okay? I can be different. I promise. I’ll tell the truth. I won’t let you leave this time. Just gimme a chance. I don’t want to do this without you_.”

           Clicking the phone off and tucking it into his back pocket, Cas eyed him down with an awaiting stare, some kind of explanation for his big words. “Can you understand my confusion?” Cas’ hands slapping his sides in defeat. He couldn’t answer, hardening his stare in defiance of the embarrassment turning him yellow. “I’m just trying to remind you, of how you felt then. Of the man that obviously had a very clearer picture of what he wants. Did he understand exactly what made me so different?” Cas questioned with a tilted stare. Gritting his teeth and burning holes into the floor, Dean backed himself into a corner with no escape. Slapping a clear image of himself out in the open wasn’t something he wanted to face. It wasn’t fair, he had too many that night and was feeling sorry for himself. It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean he was in lo-

            “I said I don’t know, Cas! I didn’t sleep for three days. I couldn’t eat. All I did was drink, and yell and tear myself apart.” Feelings resurfaced at the reliving of the loss. How desperately he clawed at life trying to pull him out of his state. “I tried to stay the course, for Sam, but with mom gone too, I just dug myself deeper into this pit. I couldn’t take it. Every time I looked at Jack all I could see was your body lying in the dirt with your wings burned into the ground,” Dean moaned. “I went to Billy and I was ready to give up” Cas’ expression pained at the recounting of his mourning. “It damn near killed me Cas, losing you.” “I don’t know why you’re different, but you are Cas, okay?” Thinking over Dean’s statement, the angel stood authoritatively before leering with into him, “That’s bullshit.”

           “What?”  lips pursed at the harsh words received in light of his honesty. “I said that’s bullshit,” the angel growled barreling towards him. Before he could speak, Castiel's hands were on him. Desperately grabbing at the fabric clinging to his skin, and weaving finger through the blonde wisps of hair at the back of his head. It was quick, turning to stone in the softness of the angel’s mouth. Coarse hair rubbing at his cheek as Cas damp lips moved with his. Pressing into him roughly, with unskilled desperation fueled by years of misunderstanding the angel madly worked his being into his own. Mind blank, then screaming in protest of the taste he found sweetening the tip of his tongue; rough hands pushed hard against the fabric of Cas’ shoulders, shoving him back in rejection of his caress. Feet shuffling away from his arms across the tiled floor. The angel’s guilt ridden glare and chest huffing shakily stopped any attempt of hard words against his advances. His stomach tight, pounded into his chest. This wasn’t who he was, this isn’t what he wanted, or so he thought. He wasn’t so sure anymore, the feeling of Cas’ stubble grazing his cheek lingered turning his skin pink.

          “I’m sorry,” Cas tried, his words slow with fear of retaliation. Unable to handle the task of sorting out a rational response to the fire in his pit, Dean tried to call on the reasons this was a bad idea. He needed a reminder, the swollen pink lips of the angel an invitation into dangerous domain. His father’s word seemed far away, the hard-faced leather clad brutality he had modeled after the elder Winchester had brought him nothing but pain, and loss. He didn’t know who he was supposed to be anymore. All he could see was the blue stare, purging his soul of its heaviness and burning him alive. The blood rushing hard in his head was disorientating. The only clear thought was of how good the warmth of his body felt on his own. “Cas, we can’t do this,” he whispered, his body deceiving him and stepping slowly into the angel again. The whole world was against their union. An angel and human weren’t allowed to fall in love. An angel shouldn’t be able to feel at all. Conceding would only be pulling him further into temptation, into damnation. “I know,” his voice low and hungry with the taste for flesh, “but when have we ever followed the rules before?” laughing in exhalation, Dean nodded, needing to look away to calm himself from the pressure of Cas’ stare, “I guess your right about that.” It didn’t matter at the moment if it didn’t make sense, he’d rationalize it later into something he could live with. Something snapped inside him at the meeting of their lips, and right now he just wanted it again and again until all he could feel was his touch. “Fuck it.”

             With shaking hands he grabbed the collar of the white shirt that lay slack from Cas’ body, pulling the angel into himself again. His mouth searching wildly for the angels between heavy breaths. Hands searched his chest feverishly, finger tips brushing against the warmed skin leaving goosebumps in their path. They danced in effort to get closer, their bodies pressing and melding as their lips searched each other’s limits. Elation spread through his limbs, lifted the weight of the past nine years from his chest. It felt right, it felt like home. Cas’ hands holding the sides of his face anchored his body to the floor. Calloused fingers brushed his cheek and deepened his kiss. Dean sighed as the angel bit down on his lower lips, taking it into his mouth and releasing it slowly. His fingers dug further into the angels back. Pushing the angel firmly into the wall behind him, he pressed his stomach hard against Cas’, trying impatiently trying to hold onto this moment. He could taste every unsaid word melt away with his touch. His resolve beaten down with the rhythm of his lips, the resistance he had held onto so tightly slipped away into the realization that this is what was missing from the black hole at the centre of his being. Confiding his soul in the only faith he’d ever known and sighing down his neck in revelation from burden. Breathing heavy into each other for a moment before pulling away with hesitation, their frightened wide eyed marvel at the new territory they entered catching the words in their throats.

“Hm, that was uh,” Dean tried, clearing his chest splotched red with heat, “Yeah,” he shifted in place with uneasiness. He licked his lips in anticipation of feeling his again, Cas’ eyes flicking down to watch the movement of his tongue. “It wasn’t terrible,” Cas answered coldly. Smirking at Dean’s disproving glare at his statement, he looked pleased in his unraveling. “Shut up.” “Where does this leave us?” Cas spoke quietly the question that naturally followed cautiously. “I don’t know,” Dean suggested, tugging at the front of Cas’ shirt, “but you should probably swing by my room later so we can figure that out.”


End file.
